I'm with you, always
by b0llyknickers
Summary: A collection of Outlaw Queen one shots. Some smutty, some not. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! Happy OQ Smut Week. Here's my one shot for the 'first 69' prompt.**

 **This is set pretty much somewhere in Storybrooke in canon-outlawqueen's future. (if 5x21 had never happened)**

 **for some reason this story seems to appear in bold on some people's mobile version and fanfiction is a pain and i can't seem to fix it :(**

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"Regina," he groans into her neck from behind, "I can't believe you're making Lasagna."

"Down boy, you're practically drooling" Regina chuckles, squirming in his embrace.

"It's not my fault you make food so good it is probably some kind of sorcery." Robin teases, separating himself from her and taking his seat at the table in the centre of the kitchen.

Regina continues layering béchamel and noodles, feeling happy with herself once the dish is layered up and topped off with mozzarella and looking good.

"Sorcery hey? You knew I was the Evil Queen when you met me." She teases back, continuing to perfect the dish before bending to put it in the oven beneath the work top she had been using.

"Well I had heard many stories about the 'great and terrible Evil Queen', but from this exact angle, the 'evil' moniker seems somewhat of an overstatement, a Lasagna expert with a great ass, perhaps, but not 'evil'," he muses.

Regina turns to face him then, "you're insufferable you know that?"

"But you love me." Robin boasts, leaving his seat to walk towards her and placing his hands at either side of her hips, trapping her between him and the oven front.

"Even when you're being smug, yes I do." She confirms, beginning to squirm out of his embrace again. But, before she can make her escape, Robin traps her lips in kiss, before breaking it off to grin at her.

He leaves her then, and begins to set the table with an air of complete innocence and the grin never leaving his face. Like he hadn't just trapped her underneath him before catching her mouth in a searing kiss. Like he hadn't just left her all hot and bothered and wanting more. Smug bastard.

Once he finishes setting up the table for their meal, he leaves her completely, to get changed into more comfortable clothes as the Lasagna cooks. It's only then that Regina realises Robin has still been wearing his 'forest' clothes, complete with his quiver still strapped across his body. With that realisation Regina feels herself get slightly disappointed, knowing how surprisingly pleasing she finds the quiver looks strapped across his chest.

Regina is pulled out of her reverie by the oven timer chiming to alert her that her dish is baked to perfection and ready to be served. She opens the oven door, pulls out the dish and, proud of the bubbling casserole before her, sets it down on the middle of the table. She grabs the salad leaves she has prepared and once she's almost ready, Robin wanders in, now clad in grey tracksuit bottoms and a white t-shirt.

Her breath catches slightly, seeing Robin look so dressed down but so attractive at the same time, the shirt doing everything for his toned chest. He pads over to her, loops his arm around her waist and kisses her cheek.

"Smells amazing, my love." He practically moans, before leaving her and taking his seat.

Regina hums in appreciation, before she too takes her seat, and begins to serve their dinner.

When they've both cleaned up huge portions of the dish along with the salad, Robin leans back in his seat, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

"What?" Regina asks, suddenly feeling watched, self conscious almost.

"That was _so_ good. How do you do that?"

She takes a moment to revel in how he is always so impressed with her. No, not impressed. In awe? She wonders what she did to deserve this, this wonderful man with his unyielding faith in her, despite all of her darkness. Once again she's hit with the realisation that no, she really, really never thought she'd have this.

"Love, care and my secret recipe." She answers in kind, a grin of her own tugging at her lips.

"Well I can literally think of only one thing in any world or any land that tastes better." Robin states, his face changing into one of complete seriousness.

"Oh? And what would that be?" Regina asks, feeling puzzled as to where he's heading with this.

"You."

"Ah. Are you conniving after some _dessert_ , thief?"

"I was thinking maybe we could both have _dessert_." He counters, leaning forward now, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

"You mean like, at the same time?" She levels, seeing if his mind is at the same place hers is, and when a grin forms across his face she knows it is. "In this world we call it a 69."

"A 69?" He thinks for a moment, "yeah, I suppose that makes sense."

They regard each other for a moment. Yes. Yep. They are doing this.

They make their way up the stairs, and into Regina's bedroom, giggling like children as they go. When they reach the room, Robin pins her up against the wall, catching her mouth in a kiss which Regina is only too pleased to reciprocate. He turns his head, deepening the kiss, and using his hands to pull at the buttons of her silk blouse.

He seeks entrance to her mouth with his tongue, and she allows him, her tongue looking to taste him too, their pent up sexual tension from the evening pouring into the kiss.

When they break for breath, Robin takes in Regina, her lips swollen, her top half unbuttoned, and her cleavage peaking out to tempt him. He thinks, even in her dishevelled state, she has probably never been more beautiful, her eyes dark and full of lust. He can't help it, he leans in, cups her cheeks with both hands, and catches those wonderful lips in a soft kiss. She makes this little noise of surprise, shocked by the sudden tenderness in their moment of heat.

When he pulls back, she takes her moment and pushes on his chest.

"Come on, we're wearing too many clothes for this." She states, beginning to undress herself.

"Impatient are we?" He teases, but takes the hint, and undresses himself at the same time.

Regina scoffs, "I'm just ready to win is all," she gibes.

"Win? I didn't know this was a competition." He smirks, amused by Regina and this side of her, taking his place on the bed.

"Please, we _both_ know you're going to come first, thief." She states, before taking her place on top of him.

"We'll see." And with that, he presses his mouth to her centre, pressing his tongue flat against her entrance, before laving upwards towards her clit. No teasing, straight to where she had been needing him all night.

Regina lets out a breathy sigh, her warm breath going straight to Robin's cock as it becomes impossibly hard i her grip as she gives him long strokes, twisting her wrist as she reaches his tip. A grin splits her face, ' _easy peasy',_ she thinks before taking him in her mouth and flicking her tongue against his tip. She feels him groan against her sex, a feeling that only propels her further. She uses her fingertips to pull back his foreskin slightly and she flicks her tongue against the sensitive ridge at his tip.

"Christ Regina" he groans against her.

She struggles to keep from smiling at his reaction and then, without warning takes him fully into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she draws upwards.

Robin had taken a moment, but takes her change in movement as cue for a change in tactics. He removes one hand from the small of her back where he had locked them and uses one finger to enter her as he continuously laps at her clit, before withdrawing and entering a second finger too. He finds her swollen spot in short order with his fingers and repeatedly presses against her, making sure his tongue continues to flick against her clit. He feels her thighs press tight against his head, causing him too to suppress the grin threatening to form across his features at her reaction.

Regina, ready to rail hard on Robin and tip him over the edge, takes one hand to his balls, massaging them gently. All the while she takes him in her mouth in deep stokes, before following her path with messy, sucking kisses and then taking him in deep again. His tip repeatedly hitting the back of her throat, and her other hand following her strokes, he is in heaven. He moves the remaining hand he has on the small of her back to her thigh and squeezes, a signal that he was about to reach the edge.

On his cue she strokes him a little harder, until he spurts into her mouth, her hand milking him dry. She swallows every drop with a satisfied hum.

"Told you I would win." She boasts, her elbow coming up to rest on his thigh, creating a pillow for her head.

"You've won alright," he pants, still basking in his pleasure, "but we're not done yet."

He contines the movement of his fingers and tongue working together to tip her over the edge with him as she gasps and moans in response. He works at her higher, taking her responses as encouragement. He keeps pressing his fingers against the inside of her over and over and laying his tongue flat against her clit, using the movements of her hips against him to bring her pleasure. When she's getting close, he switches his movements to circular motions. His fingers doing the same as his clit, drawing circle after circle inside and against her sex. She gasps and tenses at the new feeling, her pleasure crying out and she's brought to the edge.

"Robin, please, Robin, suck! Suck my…oh!"

Not one to be told twice, Robin puts his lips around her swollen clit and sucks hard. He feels her walls tense around his fingers and he continues to draw out her orgasm, giving her the most pleasure he can before it gets to be too much for her. When boneless and sated, she rolls of of him and sits up, a beautiful, content smile gracing her features. He can't help but smile back, both of them basking in the afterglow of their shared orgasms. But, he's not quite finished with her yet. Not with those beautiful swollen lips of hers and those already dark eyes having grown impossibly darker with lust and the very essence of sex hanging all around her.

"Best two out of three?" Robin volunteers with a grin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey! Here's my day three. This got kind of long because it was being such a pain to write, sorry!**

 **Enjoy ;)**

Regina sighs heavily.

"But why do I have to work with _him._ " she whines, earning herself a look from Snow.

"Because you're the best with magic, and Robin's the best tracker. Together you're the best team to spot any trace of the Wicked Witch." Charming reasons, "it's not forever Regina."

"Fine. But I'm only doing this because I want to find that green freak."

"Well that's fine Regina, that's all we ever wanted you to do anyway." He huffs, his patience with the queen wearing thin.

"This might even be a chance for you guys to chat! He's really not that bad Regina." Snow encourages, smiling wide at Regina.

"He's been living in the castle for a _whole_ week now and he _still s_ mells like forest." Regina grimaces, causing Snow to chuckle at the queen's urgency to find every reason to let the outlaw get under her skin.

Regina meets Robin in the grounds that night, the pair ready to embark on their perimeter of the forest surrounding the castle.

Robin gulps at the sight of her, lit only by the pale light of the moon and his torch, her skin practically glows. She is wearing a corset, black and jewel encrusted, that rucks up her breasts to a criminally tempting degree. On her legs she wears leather pants, but she has forgone the usual floor length skirt that goes with them. He theorises, with a hitch of his breath, just how fantastic her ass is going to look if he gets the sight of her from behind. Around her shoulders are a cape, feathered and dramatic, clasped together at her neck with an elaborate collar framing her face. Her skin looks creamy, soft and oh, so inviting. Must she always dress so infuriatingly alluring?

"Milady." He greets her, with a slight bow of his head.

She merely grunts at him in reply, walking straight past him and leading their way into the forest. The move meant to show her annoyance at being paired with him for the whole night but in reality, giving Robin the wondrous view of her behind he had so been hoping for and of course, it doesn't disappoint.

For a while they walk in silence, Robin wondering what to do, whether to begin a conversation with her. He spends the walk trying, with all his might, to concentrate on tracking the witch, but he struggles, what with the sweat gathering on her chest. It's a warm night and she's still wearing the ridiculous cape around her neck. He tries his best to be secretive about the causal perusal of her body he's taken to engaging in every few minutes. Suddenly, she stops and breathes out a loud, annoyed sigh.

"Right, I'm too hot. I'm taking this off." She asserts, stripping her cape from her shoulders and causing it to disappear in a cloud of purple smoke. "And for god's sake, I can see you ogling me. You're not being at all subtle."

That catches him off guard.

"Wha?..erm, well apologies Milady, but let me say its kind of a struggle. You're…you're stunning. In every way." He stutters.

Regina takes a moment to look at him, her eyes narrowed, but she sees no hidden agenda in his comment. This isn't the first time he's complimented her and caught her off guard. In fact she finds that the more venom she spits at him the more endeared he seems to get with her.

"If that's your attempt at flirting then it really is a poor showing, outlaw." She dismisses, expecting to receive an amused smile in reply before they continue with their duties.

Instead he keeps his eyes focused on hers, icy blue pools scorching into her chocolate brown orbs. He takes a step towards her, her answering step causing her back to collide with a tree.

"If I was flirting, you'd know about it." He levels.

It's out of her mouth before she can stop it. "Okay, **_thief_**. Try me."

"Well." He takes another deliberate step towards her. "You came down tonight wearing this," he begins as he tentatively caresses her ribs and hip with the backs of his fingers.

"And it's been enough to drive me to distraction. I had to abandon every single one of my chivalrous qualities because all of this," he indicates across her chest with his hands, "was too much for me to try and ignore. When I was finally able to tear my eyes away and stop wondering just what your skin would feel like underneath my tongue, I saw these."

His hands wandering down to her leather-clad hips now.

"I thought that it must be criminal to wear such a garment and expect a simple thief like myself to keep from stealing a glance at the wonderful ass you behold. And then, when I had managed to pull myself together, I noticed my very favourite thing, your face. Your eyes, and the tremendous amount of emotion you behold in them. The way they cut through my very being with one look and the way I want to drown in them whenever I look at you."

He reaches up to the jewelled hair pin holding her updo in place, and tugs, sending raven curls cascading down, "I noticed your hair, and wondered at how it would feel if I threaded my fingers through it."

He takes his hand away from her hair and cups her jaw then, his thumb tentatively heading towards her lips, waiting for her to pull away, but she doesn't. She just watches his eyes, hanging in his words, waiting for whatever is coming next. She seems to be accepting this, his words, any venomous retort she had mustered dying away. His thumb comes into contact with her lower lip as he strokes across it.

"Of course, then I was sucked into the treasure that is your mouth. The way your lips form every remark you make at me, the way you paint them with rich colours. And it leads me to one thing, I want to know how they taste."

With that, he leans in, closing the now extremely small gap in-between them and presses his lips to hers.

Regina is dumbfounded. Never before has she been rendered so utterly speechless. Her insides feel like they've melted into a liquid she's now struggling to keep from spilling out. Then, when he presses his lips to hers she freezes, but only for a moment before melting into him. Her mind going a little hazy, only focused on the feeling of him all pressed up against her and the perfect way in which they fit together.

She's not sure how they went from hostility to frantic coupling but this is where they are.

Then she thinks, the hostility has only ever really been on her side, and why? She didn't know until now. She had found herself looking, no, admiring him. She enjoys the sight of him with his adorable, little boy. She knows she would be perfectly happy hearing his and only his voice for the rest of her life. She likes to look at the line of his jaw when she's pushed him far enough with her remarks that she earns herself a clenching of his teeth. She admires his strong arms when they pick up his son, and the precision of his fingertips when he fires an arrow from his bow.

She realises suddenly, the feeling sucker punching her in the chest, that she noticed all of these tiny details about him. That she noted them and remembers them now. Regina lets that tiny feeling that she has been pressing and pressing down, hidden so it is out of sight, fill her up now. She's attracted to him, and that feeling has given her equal amounts fear and wonder and the way she has dealt with it is by attempting to push this man further and further away. And now he's here, lips pressed to hers, his hands cupping her jaw, waiting for her to respond and allow him further.

So thats what she does. She grips his arms and tugs him tighter against her, her ankle hooking behind his calf. Robin moves with more surety now, his head tilting to deepen the kiss, tongue tracing her mouth before she opens and allows his tongue to tangle with hers, their teeth crashing together, fighting for dominance.

Robin takes one hand down to her hip, squeezing there, and planting his thigh firmly between her legs, so that when she grinds down, she's greeted pleasantly with the wonderful friction he is providing for her.

They continue their needy make out session, hands groping and their mouths battling. It's sloppy and messy, Regina feeling the tree bark behind her scratching against her bare shoulders. But she finds she doesn't mind it, enjoys the pain as a release from the need growing low in her belly. She thinks she'll regret the sting later, but then knows she'll have a reminder of this.

When Robin makes his way down her jaw, planting sucking kisses on her skin as he goes, she heaves out a breathy sigh, her eyes clamping shut and her lips parting. He takes the hand he has against her hip and reaches around and down, giving her centre a stroke, feeling how wet she is already for him.

"Regina, you're so wet." He groans.

"Well don't just stand there," she breathes out, before opening her eyes to look at him, the amber colour going dark with lust, "on your knees, thief."

He follows his orders, sinking to the ground. He tugs on her leather pants, to no avail. He tries again. They don't budge an inch.

"Must you wear everything so damn tight." He whines, looking up at her.

"You weren't complaining before." She retorts, but before he can reply she has waved her hand and a cloud of purple smoke has enveloped her body. When the smoke clears she is completely bare before him, stripped of everything aside from her knee high boots, and a sight to behold.

He swallows deeply and shakes his head in disbelief.

"That works too. Like I said, stunning, in every way."

"Are you going to keep talking or are you going to put that mouth to use?" She gibes, tilting her hips towards him until he gets the message.

He leans forward and presses his mouth to her centre, licking lightly at her folds. She continues to tilt her hips, trying her best to nudge him where she needs him most. He takes one long lick of his tongue right up to her clit but, instead of staying there he heads back down to her entrance again, giving her open mouthed kisses there before entering her with his tongue.

"Stop teasing, thief." She hooks her leg over his shoulder then and digs her pointed heel dangerously into his back.

With that he scoffs, the hot air of his breath against her causing her hands to grip the tree behind her. He then, finally, makes his way to her clit, sucking and sucking at her until he feels her thighs tense against his cheek and her hand shoots to his head, holding him in place. He snakes his hand up and up until he can enter her with his fingers, he slips two fingers in with little resistance and he groans once again at how wet she is.

He hears her breathy response from above, and he keeps it up, pushing and pushing against the inside of her with his fingers, his lips wrapped around her swollen bud and pulling.

"Robin, don't stop. Don't. I'm..I'm.." She lets out this wonderful sound of pleasure just as her walls contract around his fingers. He manages to just catch sight of her heaving chest and her face screwed up in pleasure and he thinks; that, along with the sounds she just made, are probably the most beautiful she has ever been. Completely undone and just from his fingers and mouth.

When her hand is pushing his head away, he stands, one hand going to her hip where he massages her joint gently, easing any pain from having it hooked over his shoulder. He catches her lips in a kiss. Regina tastes herself on his tongue, enjoying the debauchery of that and his damp fingers against her. She feels his hardened length against her stomach and she feels that need growing once more at her core.

"Take me, thief." She moans, her lips brushing against his. He makes no hesitation, he grabs her hips and spins her, her front colliding with the rough bark of the tree. He nuzzles into her neck, kissing her there while pulling his clothes off, his pants down and round his ankles. When he's bare, he pulls her back a few steps, before pushing down on her back so she bends in front of him.

His hands immediately grab her ass, he gives her a quick slap before telling her, "hands on the tree."

She obeys immediately. Enjoying his sudden dominance and impatient to have him between her thighs. He lines himself up behind her, before sinking in. He moans as he slips right in, her wetness making for no resistance at all.

She sighs and tips her hips towards him, signalling she's ready for him to move. He fills her up, stretching her in ways she hasn't been for a long while.

Robin is ready to move when he's suddenly hit with the fact that this might be the only time she lets him in, past her walls, ever again. He doesn't want to rush, he's suddenly hit with the need to go slow, to take his time and relish in the feeling of her heat round him.

Regina seems to read this and will have none of it. She casts her glance backwards, seeing the determination he has in his face to take his time. She reaches for his hand on her hip and squeezes, getting his attention.

"Robin, just fuck me." She states, her eyes boring into his.

He nods, and breathes out. Then his face changes, "Hands. On. The. Tree."

She smirks, obeying him. Then he begins to move. He's rails hard on her, his hips crashing into her ass. She stiffens, surprised by his sudden movement and then she's in heaven. Every push of his hips has him pushing against that spot inside of her. She's practically clawing the tree, her fingers digging in to the wood for some kind of release. She tips her hips back to meet each of his pushes, making him hit her deeper, she just needs something on her clit now and she'll be touching the sky.

"Robin..can I? I need to touch.." She stutters, her pleasure stoking through her, rendering her incoherent.

"Mmmhmm. Touch yourself love." Robin replies, squeezing her hips.

Regina presses her fingers to her clit and rubs and that's all it takes. She sees stars behind her closed eyelids, and she practically wails with delirious pleasure. Robin takes her cue, giving her a few more deep thrusts before holding her hips against him and spilling into her.

Regina is the one to pull away, causing him to wince as he slips out of her. She mumbles an apology as she straightens, twisting her hair back up onto her head.

"That was…" Robin starts before she cuts him off.

"A one time thing." She states, causing him to struggle to hide the disappointment now clouding his features. She notices, because then she adds " ** _thief_** " with a sultry grin that is just enough to give him hope that one day they may repeat their little tryst.

"Now, back to work." With that, they are engulfed by a cloud of purple smoke and when it has cleared, they are both fully dressed again. She turns from him and begins to walk away, but, it doesn't escape his notice the scratches that are adorning her back from being pressed against the tree. He wonders for a moment why she hasn't fixed it with magic, knowing such a task is easily within her powers.

Later, when she is back in her castle and soaking in the bath, feeling the water sting her wounds, she thinks of him. Lets her hand wander down her naked body and press against her centre. And, only hours later, recreates their little tryst in her head once more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey! So this was the prompt I was most looking forward to so of course it was a bitch to write.**

 **I hope you enjoy it anyway! Please leave me any thoughts x**

"What sort of symbolism is Shakespeare showing in the multi-generational story running through The Winter's Tale?" Robin asks his room full of sleepy undergrads, who were not advised to a Jacobean literature lecture that meets at 9am on a Monday morning.

A few hands go up, the usual hands, but not the one he's looking for. He picks a girl near the front.

"There is clear evidence of a multi-generational story running through the play, and parallels can be drawn between the parents and their children. The existence of this aspect of the play is Shakespeare trying to show that life goes in cycles." She answers with surety.

Robin admires the confidence in her answer but knows it is not the answer he is looking for.

"Good try, but your evaluation that this story works in a cycle, and the insinuation that the children are doomed to end up like Hermione and Leontes implies that perhaps you haven't yet reached the end of the play." He reasons with a raise of his eyebrows, earning himself a telling chuckle from those who clearly have reached the happy resolve at the end of the play.

He casts his glance across the sea of faces and finds her. Dark hair framing her face, dark eyes watching him. Her eyebrows screwed up in thought, teeth nibbling on her criminally full lower lip.

He knows she has the right answer, she always does, she just allows the others to have a chance before she raises her hand. The chance to get it wrong more often than not.

He makes eye contact with her, willing her to give her answer.

She smiles, raises her eyebrows at him, and with a roll of her eyes, volunteers her hand.

"Regina? What do you think?"

"Well, in The Winter's Tale, the older generation are symbolic of the problems in the world, on the other hand, the young bring hope, their role being representative of reuniting families and bringing back happiness, the younger generation also come hand in hand with the change of season, changing from winter to spring. An example of this is shown in how Perdita and Florizel resolve their families argument and thus Hermione comes back from her supposed death."

"Perfect Regina, thank you." Robin praises, a grin splitting his face. "Okay, for next week I want you all to think about this and other symbolism throughout the play, and surprise, surprise, you'll actually have had to get to the end."

The class pack up, leaving in dribs and drabs, Regina hanging back, waiting to speak to Robin, who is cleaning his notes from the whiteboard.

Robin, knowing his student, and knowing she'll be waiting for him, begins before even turning around to see her, "Regina, before you even ask, your essay is going to be fine, I _know_ you've got all the ideas right from your contributions…"

He turns around then and she's sat on his desk, looking up at him, with a look on her face that is the physical embodiment of lost hope, and he caves.

"But if it'll make you feel better you can go over it with me, is tomorrow night ok?" He offers, watching her face move into a smile, his face unable to fight the answering one now gracing his features.

"Thank you Robin, thank you! What time?"

"7pm. In my office, it's in the South building." He explains.

"Perfect, thank you so much."

Endeared by the stress she always carries over nothing, he answers, "it's no problem Regina, see you then."

Later that night Regina is in the Students Union bar, glass of nearly empty red wine in one hand and phone in the other. She looks over the text from Mal again, cancelling their meal out together, and she sighs, feeling a lick of annoyance curl up her spine.

Suddenly another large glass slides into her view and she looks up. Just in time to see a group of her class mates appearing around her booth.

"I don't know what that phone did to you, but we thought you might need that, sister." Leroy gibes, grinning at her and sliding in opposite.

"Hey Leroy, don't rile the Evil Queen of Jacobean Literature!" Killian teases, nudging Leroy.

Regina sighs, rolling her eyes at her nickname and finishing off the first glass of wine.

"Just because I actually read the plays and you don't." She teases back wearily.

"Hey, you should all be reading the plays!" A familiar voice protests.

"Robin?"

Regina feels her whole demeanour change, and mentally checks herself. He slides in next to her, giving her a smile that makes her belly flop and her face split into an answering grin.

"I didn't know you were here." Regina continues, feeling a zing of electricity when his thigh brushes against hers.

"Teachers not allowed in the Union bar?" He questions with enough of a grin to show Regina he is joking.

"No, of course they are, I just didn't see you." She explains, and then adds, "besides, it's not like you're old."

"Oi! You two! Will y'all stop pretending only you two exist and join in? Ruby's coming over with shots!" Leroy gibes.

"Yeah, we're not in a lecture now." Ruby teases, placing the shots down in front of each of them.

Robin sneaks a glance at Regina, and swears he sees a blush gracing her cheeks at the insinuation that Robin might only have eyes for Regina even when they're in lecture environment. Before he can see her properly, she's knocking back the shot with a lick of her lips that draws his eyes to her mouth instead. He's pulled out of his reverie by a jab in the ribs from Ashleigh, urging him to finish his shot.

Later, the conversation flowing and the group having downed an impressive amount of shots, Regina and Robin are both feeling buzzed, as are the rest of them. The former starting to lean into Robin in her seat, his arm slung around her shoulders.

Regina suddenly announces, with a slight slur; "Tequila! We should order Tequila!"

The group cheer in response, waving over a waiter.

"If the Queen wants Tequila, she should have Tequila!" Leroy insists, getting louder.

"Waaaaaait, if she's the Queen of literature, am I the King?!" Robin suddenly bellows, causing Regina to throw her head back with laughter, collapsing against Robin.

When she's stopped laughing she leans away from him to sit straight, turning to face him. She places her hand on his thigh, leaning in to brush her lips against his ear. Robin follows her lead, leaning in towards her.

"So you want me to be your queen?" she breathes, sending a shiver up his spine. She leans away again then, maintaining eye contact all the while. Regina then tips the salt onto her hand, and reaches for the Tequila and the lime. She looks back at Robin and, so slowly Robin swears someone has just pressed a slow motion button on the scene, licks the salt away before taking the shot and biting the lime. Damn, could drinking alcohol ever be so damn sexy?

Robin isn't even aware of the groups presence now, only her. They spend the rest of the evening getting drunker, whispering and giggling. Of course, the rest of the group, just as pissed as they are, aren't even noticing.

When Robin's sight is spinning, Ruby announces they are off to House of Locks, the club down the road.

"Guys, it is time to bow to your queen, for the audience with her must end." Regina announces, slurred and as regal as a potato.

"What? The party is just getting started! We can't send you home on your own Reg." Leroy protests, but getting ready to leave all the same.

"I'll get her home! Locks is maybe too young for me anyway." Robin admits, helping Regina out of the booth, realising she is clearly way further gone than he is.

"Okay, brother. Look after her." Leroy instructs, and the group split outside the bar, heading off in their separate ways into the night.

Robin hooks his arm around Regina's waist, helping her continue in a straight line, and she's mumbling.

"You know, fucking Mal was s'posed to meet me t'night. She just text! Just text! Can you b'lieve that! But you know what? I'm glad. I was sad actually. But now I'm glad. Like you came along with your pretty eyes and that was nice. Way nicer than her, cos she doesn't have pretty eyes like you have. And she doesn't bite her lip when she smiles. That's nice too."

Then she's stopping and she's looking up at him. He looks down at her. Their faces are close, breath mingling. Close enough that a change in angle of his head and their lips would touch. Her glance casts down to his lips, but instead of kissing him, she speaks instead.

"Your eyes are even pretty at night."

He chuckles then. He's never seen her so delightfully free willed. He'd say, even though he could have sworn it wasn't possible, that she was even more beautiful now than she was every week in classes.

They walk in silence after that, Robin changing his hold so she is tighter to him, his head against hers. The smell of her apple-scented shampoo filling his senses. She clings to him, has his shirt screwed up in her hand against his abdomen. They walk until they reach her flat.

They turn to each other then. Her brown eyes searching his. He reaches his hand up, winding fingers in her hair. His thumb stroking her cheek bone. Regina doesn't move, waiting for him.

"You don't have pretty eyes." Robin says, searching her face, taking in every detail. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful."

They are at that moment again, their bodies pressed together, either one of them could close the distance but neither of them move. Regina flits her eyes to his lips, then back up to his eyes.

"You can, just do it." She breathes, willing him to her.

"I want to."

"Please."

"It wouldn't be right. We're both drunk." He steps away from her then, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. "Get some sleep, lovely. I'll see you tomorrow night?" He asks, hands still clasped around hers. Her disappointment is evident, despite her attempts to try and hide it.

"Yes. 7. G'night, Robin."

"Good night, Regina."

Regina remembers last night. She remembers everything, which surprises herself. She knows that three things are abundantly clear:

She acted entirely inappropriately with Robin last night.

She has to spend the evening with him tonight.

She really, really likes him.

She spends more time than she would like to admit deciding what to wear on Tuesday afternoon. She showers, does her hair, her makeup. She goes through numerous outfits before deciding on a red knee length dress, complete with casual blazer, stockings and heels. All while simultaneously reminding herself that this is not a date and she should not be acting like it is.

She gets to his office, doesn't miss that his office is away from any others, or the way that he checks her out. They begin looking over her essay. They manage all of 12 minutes.

They're both on his office sofa, her shoes kicked off on the floor, both leant towards each other, looking over her writing.

Regina breathes deeply, puts her hand on his knee and stops him. Robin looks up at her, he doesn't say anything. He lets her lead.

"Last night…" She begins, searching his face for any sign of his feelings.

"We can forget it, it's ok. We were both drunk."

"But I don't want to." Regina states, her fingers tucking under his chin, keeping his gaze on her. She sees Robin swallow, he blinks at her, allowing her to make the next move. His tongue peaks out, wetting his lips. Her eyes immediately drawn to it. She leans forward on her knees.

"Kiss me." She breathes.

"But…" He stutters, hands cupping her jaw. "I'm afraid I won't be able to stop."

She looks him completely in the eyes.

"Then don't."

He presses her lips to hers then. Her hands sliding to his shoulders and gripping tightly. They kiss and kiss. The weeks of tension building between them being released now. Soon his tongue enters her mouth, licking at the seam of her lips before exploring the inside of her mouth with his tongue. It's messy and desperate. Both of them trying to get more of each other.

Robin reaches around her back, finding the zip at the nape of her neck. He tugs, peeling the dress away from her skin and pulling away from her when he has it puddled at her hips. He takes in the sight of her, her bra all black lace and helping her pack some decent cleavage.

She allows him to look, enjoying his reactions. Then, he pushes her down, her back hitting the sofa, before he climbs up her body and catches her mouth in another kiss. He works his way down her jaw, leaving tiny nips as he works his way along. He finds her pulse point on her neck and sucks, earning a gasped moan from her. A little too much for some simple mouth to neck action but well, it's been a while, and their pent up sexual tension has her ridiculously turned on.

He reaches her collar, and travels down to the swells of her breasts leaving open mouthed kisses along them. He reaches his hand up, pulling the cup of her bra aside, before landing his tongue down on her nipple, now sensitive and puckered. She gasps another breathy moan, holding his head to her as she arches her back into him. He moves across to the other nipple, his fingers taking their place on the first nipple, now slick with his spit. The dual pleasure has her sighing his name, both hands taken their place on his head and her fingers wound tight into his hair.

After a while, he stops, looking up at her.

"I want to taste you."

She's nodding at him then, her lips caught in her teeth, the anticipation of having his wonderful, magical tongue on even more sensitive parts of her body than her nipples has her lighting up like a rocket. He travels his way down, pausing only to strip her of the dress and stockings as she gets rid of her bra and tugs at his shift till he takes that off as well. Now she's naked to the waist down, and the only thing covering her is the black lace thong that matched her bra. He marvels at her, breaths out a "beautiful" before pulling the thong down her legs.

He swipes his fingers between her folds, watching her face.

"So wet Regina." He practically moans and it does things to her. How turned on he is by her being turned on.

Then he presses his mouth to her, tasting her.

"And so sweet."

He travels his tongue up from her entrance to her clit, giving her a soft lick there causing her to jerk her hips towards him at the sudden pleasure. He chuckles, planting his arm across her hips to keep her in place. Then he begins licking at her swollen bud, then sucking and then switching and flicking his tongue against her instead.

The pleasure is wonderful, and Regina feels it blooming in waves, curling her toes and making her grasp his head once more. She spills every sigh and every moan from her lips, finding it only propels Robin further. When she's nearly on the edge, she musters all the strength she has, pushing his head away from her centre. She's panting slightly when he looks at her, his gaze questioning.

"I want you inside me." She demands. He begins to ruck down his trousers, boxers going down too. He's about to leave the sofa when she stops him, her legs trapping him, allowing her to climb over him and straddle him.

"Condom?" He queries.

"I'm on birth control and I trust you." She states plainly, his answering nod allowing her to continue.

She rises on her knees, angling herself above him, before sinking down slowly, taking him to the hilt. He slips inside her with no resistance, no surprise with how wet she is.

Robins breathes in and out. Regina was on the edge when she stopped him, meaning she's extra snug and warm around him.

"You feel so good." He murmurs, his hands finding her hips.

And then, she starts to move, rutting against him, taking him hard and quick.

She lets out a staggered "you..too.." but it's barely worth it, both of them overcome with their own shouts of pleasure. Robin begins moving up into her, helping her hit that spot inside her on each of her strokes, his hands driving her hips down against him, the sounds of skin slapping on skin filling the room. She begins clenching on each pass now, causing her clit to become even more swollen and sensitive so, when she takes her hand down between them and begins to rub in quick circles against herself she's shouting out her pleasure. Robin feels it too. He hisses, letting out a "christ Regina".

She doesn't even notice, she's reaching the sky, her pleasure coming out in yelps now, filling the room, the feeling filling her up from her head to her toes and she comes with a shout of "Robin" and a cry of pleasure.

A couple of thrusts afterwards, Robin pulls her down to him, grunting as he spills his release into her, causing her to let out shaky breaths from her the ends of her orgasm.

They take a moment, remaining in their position, catching their breathes and being lulled into the depths of their afterglow. She leans her head against him for a moment, before pulling away to look at him.

"That was way better than acing my essay." She tells him with a grin and a wink, his answering chuckle warming her insides.


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay so I saw a prompt on twitter about Regina having issues saying i love you and this was my interpretation.**  
 **This is feelsy and there's no smut.**

 **TW: RAPE, SELF HARM, DEPRESSION, ABUSE. (only mentions but it's important nevertheless.)**

Robin says it the first night they spend together after him returning from New York. They are curled up against each other in her bed. Regina has her head on his chest, her hand drawing patterns across his chest. His hand is toying with her hair, curling it between his fingertips. Regina uses the ear pressed against his skin to listen to his heartbeat, the steady beat of it. He's there. He's here with you. She stills her hand, allowing the steady rhythm to fill her senses and to lull her to sleep. She's almost there when she feels his head move, his lips pressing to her forehead. She's nearly asleep, and that's when she hears it:

"I love you, Regina."

Her eyes pop open. Does he think she's awake? Is he expecting her to respond? She waits. Nothing. Then his breathing goes heavy and slow. He's asleep. He just confessed his love for her and now he's asleep?! Just like that? _Men_ she thinks, with a roll of her eyes. She remains in the same position, his last whisper ghosting around her ears and snaking it's way to her chest and then squeezing like a vice around her heart. When she's sure he's fast asleep, she wriggles away from him, sitting up.

She looks at him, content and peaceful, his breath escaping through parted lips. She uses her index finger to trace his bottom lip, memories of the contrast of his soft lips and scratchy stubble flooding her senses.

This man. This man who has seen her darkness, seen the ghosts of the person she used to be and never once seen the monster. Rose tinted spectacles she would insist, he would argue that he simply saw her heart. She wonders what good she did to have been blessed with ties to such a man. She tries with all her might to stop herself from attempting to answer that question. To stop herself from frantically searching her past for moments of good and then falling into even deeper self hatred when she fails to find anything.

She tears herself away from the faces in her head. The faces that haunt her when she is having a particularly bad day. The faces always wear the same expression. Horror. The look of horror as death arrives. Death brought upon them by her. They flash through her mind like a slideshow, clicking and clicking and getting faster and faster, until all she can do is dig her nails deep into her arms as she wraps them around herself. She worked out that coping mechanism early on, if she was able to draw blood from her arms with her fingernails it would be enough pain to draw her out of her thoughts. Physical pain to take away from the mental pain.

She is older now. She has Henry, she has found friends in her former enemies, in Snow, Charming and Emma. She uses that light to keep her afloat now.

She looks back at Robin.

"I thought I had lost you" she whispers, "you had gone."

She wants to love him. She wants to let herself have that. To be free of the cage her feelings are trapped in. Still kept under a rusty lock and key. Kept safe, Daniel's name etched everywhere you look. But she doesn't want that.

 _"Then love again."_

Those had been Daniel's last words. He had held her face in his fingertips as he said them.

She rises from the bed, pulls on her jacket and shoes and heads outside, into the garden. She looks up to the apple tree there.

 _I'm trying Daniel. I want to love him._

What's stopping her? The key to her heart wont budge.

She thinks back to Robin. Then it hits her.

He left you. He left you for Marian. You were just a poor imitation of her. It wasn't even her and he left you. Now Zelena is the mother of his child, you can never give him that. What can you give him? He'll leave you again…

"Regina, Regina. My love, I'm here."

She's brought out of the trappings of her mind by his hand pulling her into his chest. She's sat on the grass, knees pulled up to her chest. She's not sure how she got there. Robin is knelt beside her, cradling her body, whispering reassurances into her hair.

"Where did you go?" He asks, when she has stopped shaking.

"I..I… just needed some air." She replies, leaning away from him now, but still clutching his hands.

"No, my love. In your head. Where did you go?"

She looks into his eyes, blue eyes burning into brown ones. She lets out a deep sigh.

"I just got…lost. You brought me back." And then, her eyes filling with tears, "you love me."

"I do." He answers simply, no agenda, no cunning.

"I want to love you." She answers, seeing the confusion cloud his features, "I want to. But I can't. You have to understand. You broke my heart. I thought I had lost you too." He goes to speak, but she cuts him off. "I know that you're here now and this is true, and I know that you do love me."

Robin casts his glance down, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. He looks back at her, pained and remorseful.

"I understand my love, you need time, and no matter how many days, or months, or years it takes, I will try to show you my love in everything I do. Maybe, when we're old and wrinkly and Roland and Henry bring their kids to marvel at the queen and her thief, you might let me into your heart. Until then I'll wait. I'd wait forever for you."

"If her eyes were filled with tears before, they're free falling now.

A soft "ok" is all she manages to mutter before he's gathering her up and taking them both back to bed.

***

He makes good on his promise. He loves her in the way he makes her breakfast and coffee just the way she likes it. He loves her in the way he loves her son, embracing their family unit. He loves her in the way he kisses her, pouring emotion into it, leaving her whole and happy and wanted. He loves her in the way he looks at her, his feelings shining out from his eyes. He loves her in the way he holds her at night, keeping her safe and close. He loves her in his words, in everything from "stunning, in every way," to "you are my future." He loves her when they make love, in the way he kisses every part of her body, the way he gives and gives until she is writhing and coming apart beneath him.

He loves her. And he tells her so. He tells her when she's least expecting it, when she's frustrated that he still hasn't managed to work out how to use a modern washing machine, he tells her when she's tired and grouchy, and he tells her when she's flushed and sweaty, having finished her workout.

He loves her. And he tells her so. He tells her when she needs it most. He tells her when she's feeling that dark foreboding sense of self loathing that clouds her from time to time. He tells her when she gets too wrapped up inside her head and gets angry at him for making her the second choice. He tells her when she thinks of her mother, and the years of mental and physical abuse, the childhood tainted with the feeling of being a disappointment and dreading the punishment that came with that.

He loves her. And he tells her so. He doesn't expect a reply. He gives her the time she needs, the time to open herself up to him. To trust him again. He notices her changing, notices the little ways she allows him in. Instead of just telling him that she is having one of her down days, she talks to him about it. Tells him what is eating away at her mind. She lets him see more and more of her.

Robin never changes, she allows him to see the darkness within her. Not the darkness of the Evil Queen, but the darkness inside her head. The darkness forged from a difficult childhood, a lost love, and a marriage forced upon her when she was still a child.

Robin gets mad, but not in front of her. When he's alone with his thoughts and he thinks of her mother. Thinks of the way Regina had tensed up when he had offered to try and fix the wiring in her TV. Only to reveal later that Cora had sometimes used electric shocks as punishment when Regina disappointed her. He thinks of Leopold, the way he had forced her into his bed, under the guise of being 'a good wife'. Had taken her when she was still practically a child, and still raw from the loss of Daniel, had taken sex from her with a grunt of "Eva" in her ear and no care towards her feelings. He often sees red. Feels the urge to protect her. Then berates himself. Despite what she shows to him, his Regina is strong. That quality in her deemed even more beautiful when one is aware of horrors she has been through.

***

One night, they are curled up in bed. Both lying on their sides, facing each other. They have enough space between them to be able to see each other. Robin is asleep. His breathing even and heavy.

Regina searches his face, making a note of every one of his features. His long brown eyelashes, the crinkles next to his eyes and the curve of his nose. She's smiling, taking him in, relaxed and free. It's been months since he returned from New York and they've only been brought closer together.

"I thought I lost you, but you came back for me." She whispers, her hand gently cupping his jaw. "You've waited for me." Her thumb strokes across his cheeks. "I never thought I'd have this."

Then she waits, removing her hands from his face. Watching him. She counts his breaths.

In…out…  
In…out…  
In…out…

She waits.

Then, so quiet you might have missed it, she breathes;

"I love you, Robin Hood."

She is shutting her eyes, content to fall asleep, feeling free of the chains on her heart that have dragged her down for too long.

"I love you too, Regina."

Her eyes pop back open, "you're awake!" she gasps.

She finds him smiling back at her, dimples on full display, eyes sleepy but full of so much weighted affection that she can't help but smile back.

He winds his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him, pressing his lips against hers. When they part, he touches his forehead with hers, the air surrounding full of content.

"We'll be able to get through whatever life decides to throw at us, you know." He tells her.

"Together, always." She confirms, and that's how they stay. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay! this came as a result of outlaw queen, one of my favourite songs and a first dance prompt coming together.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **ps, please listen to the last song as you read, the album version by John Martyn if you can!**

"Robin, will you sit down please?" Regina sighs, "we have to sort this."

Regina was on the sofa, still dressed in her pantsuit, but heels kicked off. Her legs were stretched out and her stocking clad feet crossed in front of her. Her laptop was open on her knees, her fingers drumming out an impatient rhythm, as she eyed him over the top of it.

Robin was stood in front of the TV, one hand holding the remote, the other to his mouth, his teeth nibbling on his thumb nail. He was flicking through every channel, something he liked to do now that he knew how, but irritated Regina immensely.

Robin and his discovery of Storybrooke technology had been amusing at first. He was like a child with new toys, and every time Regina would show him something new, his eyes would light up in wonder and he would plague her to show him again. The ring of a cellphone, or the snap of a camera and Robin would become the image of Roland; all dimples and curiosity.

The novelty did, of course, wear off for Regina, but never for Robin. Every week he had a new obsession, something he wanted to learn everything about and insist, if they didn't already have it, they buy it immediately.

One thing Robin never quite moved on from though, was 80's pop. The Bowie, Regina could deal with, Rick Astley, she could not. He would listen to song, after song, after song. Always choosing the ones that were particularly catchy, and would have Regina singing it for weeks afterwards. He would also choose to play them at the most inappropriate or irritating times, Regina nearly losing her top when one night, when Henry and Roland were on a joint 'camping trip' in the forest with the Merry Men, and they had the evening alone, Robin decided to choose the exact moment the pair had fallen away from each other, flushed, sweaty and sated, to grab the stereo remote and press play; causing Kim Wilde's _You Came_ to blast out of the speakers at full volume.

"Robin, come on! We've got to decide." She practically pleads, causing him to finally switch off the TV and sit himself down next to her feet.

"Fine, but I've got a surprise for you." He beams, lifting his hips and reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a folded scrap of paper, "I've made a list!"

"I'm sorry, Robin Hood actually did something to help organise our wedding? I'm shocked." She mocks, although generally surprised.

"You knew I was a thief when you met me, not a wedding planner." He grins, causing her to scoff and roll her eyes.

"Go on then."

"Well," he clears his throat. " _I think we're alone now_ \- Tiffany."

"Robin, this is our first dance, are you being serious?!"

"Okay, okay, that was a bit of a wide shot. _What about I wanna dance with somebody_ \- Whitney Houston" he tries.

"Just because it's our first dance, doesn't mean it has to have dance in the title." She chuckles, watching him screw his face up and search his list.

"I'll get rid of _Let's Dance_ \- David Bowie then…" He murmurs, "what about _Never Gonna Give_.."

She cuts him off before he can continue.

"No Rick Astley." She accentuates each word so that he gets the message.

He rolls his eyes, and sighs dramatically, "fine."

Regina watches him search his list, his lip caught in his teeth.

"Robin, do you know what a first dance is?" She queries.

He regards her for a moment, then exhales, dropping his list into his lap.

"No, not really."

Regina shuts her laptop, and scoots down the sofa, her legs crossed, facing him.

"I thought so. So you know after we get married, we're having the party?"

"Yep, in the garden, with all the lights." He assures her, reminding her once again of Roland and the similarities between father and son.

"Exactly, and at the party, we're going to have music, and the middle all cleared out for dancing."

"Yep."

"Well, when a couple get married, they always take the first dance at the party, and the song they choose to dance to is sometimes one that is very special to them, or it might be their favourite song, or it might be what they think describes them as a couple. It's a very important moment. I want you to dance with me, in front of everyone, and I don't want it to be to Rick Astley. Okay?"

He is smiling then, a dazzling smile, and nodding in understanding.

"I get it." And then, "Well I know what I want then."

"Go on."

He reaches forward, his hands cupping her biceps.

"I want something that shows that whatever you do, whatever we do, wherever we end, whatever past we've had, I love you, and I don't think I could love you more."

She reaches out, cupping his face in her hands, "I love you too." Then she presses her lips to his, a soft confirmation of the way they both feel. She leans back, his face still cupped in her hands, "now, any ideas?"

"I might have one, but will you give me a few days? I'll have it ready on Friday."

Regina is confused, but she goes along with it, humouring her thief as always.

"Friday then, I'm looking forward to it."

Robin spends the rest of the week noticeably absent. On an evening when Regina curls up on the sofa, with a book and a glass of wine, their usual set up for his TV flicking, he excuses himself to the garden, and tells her not to come find him. She gets more and more intrigued as the week goes on, wondering what sort of song suggestion could possibly warrant this amount of preparation. Is he hiring a full orchestra to play it? Is he learning a dance routine? She has no idea but also knows not to put anything past him. Her spontaneous and romantic thief could literally be up to anything.

When Friday morning comes, Henry surprises Regina by announcing that him and Roland are having a sleepover with Emma tonight, and that her and Robin will have the evening to themselves. Regina also doesn't miss the smirk Henry gives Robin and the return grin from him. Her frown deepening and feeling slightly helpless, she accepts the new turn in events, her ever growing anxiety for what awaits her filling her mind.

On Friday night they have dinner, and once they have finished eating, and Regina rises to clear their plates, Robin too rises.

"Please stay inside for the next 30 minutes, and then at 8pm, come outside to the garden." He presses a quick kiss to her temple, and leaves, not giving her time to argue.

Once left alone, Regina scowls, a low growl erupting from her throat. Why was she being kept so thoroughly in the dark? She couldn't stand it. As she washed up, she made sure to clatter the pans and plates even loader than usual, despite the fact that no-one could hear her.

Robin however, got to work. He had already set up the extension lead, so that his iPod dock would play outside. He flicked the switch on all the outdoor fairy lights he had installed in the garden, lining the bushes and trees. He set up his seat in the centre, making sure he was lit enough to see the strings on Henry's guitar so that he could still play.

He stepped back from his seat, taking a look at the scene he had created, and he hummed to himself, satisfied with the result. Once his half an hour was up, he checked the dock to make sure the song was ready to play, and then took his seat, guitar in hand. He saw her silhouette against the back door and took in a deep breath.

She stepped outside and her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped.

There was Robin, sat in the centre of the dark garden, guitar in hand and smile across his face, love sparkling in his eyes. Lighting him was hundreds of fairy lights, twinkling in the dark. The whole set up was more beautiful than any magic she could create, and her eyes filled with tears.

Then, Robin cleared his throat, and started to play;

 _If you kissed the sun right out of the sky for me_

 _And if you told me all the lies that I deserve_

 _And if you laid all night in the rain for me  
_

 _Well, I couldn't love you more_

 _Just couldn't love you more_

 _I couldn't love you more_

As his voice floated over the chorus, tears that had gathered began to free fall, her hands still against her lips, moving only every couple of seconds to wipe at her tears, before returning to cover her mouth.

 _And if you loved me till my eyes gave no more shine for you_

 _If you walked beside me all the long way home_

 _And if you wasted all of your time on me_

 _Well, I couldn't love you more_

 _Just couldn't love you more_

 _I couldn't love you more_

 _Just couldn't love you more_

He stopped singing then, his hands continuing to strum the chords of the song, he looked up at her, his eyes connecting with hers,

"My beautiful love, do you care to dance?"

All Regina can do is nod, as he leans over, and presses play on his iPod, John Martyn's _Couldn't love you more_ picking up where he had left it.

Robin takes Regina's hand, lifting it up, twirling her once before bringing her in close. Their hands clasp together as she rests her head against him, the pair swaying to the music filling the garden around them.

They stay there, taking in the rest of the song, their bodies pressed against each other.

 _And if you gave me all the things,_

 _I'd never ask of you_

 _And if you showed me all the ways you have to cry_

 _And if you laid all night in the rain for me_

 _I couldn't love you more_

 _Just couldn't love you more_

 _Just couldn't love you more_

Regina swears that right here, in this moment; she feels truly content, and at peace with herself. Here in the arms of a man who accepts her, who saw her heart when everyone else saw the monster, her soulmate.

The man who couldn't love her more.

 **Please leave me a review, they make me the happiest person!xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**SO because of the riot in the fandom on twitter over the possibility of 'warden queen' being a thing (Hyde and Regina pairing) when Robin's body isn't even cold yet I decided to write a prison one shot, so that 'warden queen' can mean still mean outlaw queen for me.**

 **It also ended up with Robin as a prison guard but you know, my intentions were in the right place ;)**

He goes past at the same time everyday.

The wake up bell rings, shrill and unforgiving. The lights turn on, causing Regina to screw up her face, the harsh reality of where she is hitting her as it does every morning. Regina counts:

10

9

8

7

6

5

4

3

2

1

Right on cue, she hears the door to her block open. Each footstep is accompanied with a click of his counter. The same thing, every day. But Regina doesn't mind, morning count lets her see _him_.

She drags herself from her bed, feeling the dull ache as she rises, the result of 4 months now sleeping on the hard surface. Absent-mindedly, she reaches up to fix her hair. Like tamed raven locks would take any attention away from her prison uniform. She stands, hearing his approach.

Then she sees him. Locksley's his name. His sandy blonde hair parted at the side, stubble not quite long enough to hide the dimpled cheeks beneath, and piercing blue eyes, only accentuated by the blue fitted shirt of his uniform. The shirt that clings attractively to his chiseled chest, giving a hint to the muscles beneath.

Regina doesn't know if it's some kinky version of Stockholm syndrome she has developed, or if it has just been a while but she can't ignore the low burn she feels when he appears on a morning, or the abundant want she feels when she would imagine him at night.

As he reaches her cell he turnes to look at her, the corner of his mouth curling up in the slightest of smiles, his eyes on her.

"Mills." He greets, with a slight nod, before clicking his counter, and continuing on.

Regina exhales the breath she didn't realise she was holding.

Tomorrow she was going to get more of an interaction.

The bell tolls, just as shrill as her first morning in prison. The lights turn on. She waits.

10

9

8

7

6

5

4

3

2

1

The sliding of the heavy block door, footsteps, clicks. She stays in her bed, waiting. He draws nearer, Regina's breath deepening. Then the footsteps stop.

"Inmate, wake up."

Regina doesn't move, her hands sweating, her pulse quickening.

"Mills, up!" He commands, she flinches slightly when he raises his voice, her excitement building.

"Inmate!"

She stays absolutely still, then she hears it. He sighs loudly and his keys begin to jingle. He unlocks her door, and slides the large metal door open. He walks until he is stood over her, Regina swears she isn't breathing.

One strong hand lands on her bicep and pulls her right from the bed causing her to plant her feet on the ground to keep from falling. When she stills she is inches away from his face, her hands against the solid wall of his chest, her body pressed tight against his.

He speaks slowly and with precision, lips inches away from hers:

"Inmates will get out of bed for count."

"Make me."

There's a moment where he's a little lost for words, her boldness catching him off guard. Then he catches himself, and harshens his glare, his hand still tight on her bicep, holding her against him.

Regina moves with precision, calculating, seductive. Her lips part, tongue peeking out to wet them. She deliberately moves her gaze down to his lips before returning the eye contact again.

He seems to have no reaction, but Regina doesn't miss the way his hand tightens on her arm, a lick of satisfaction curling up her spine.

Then he leaves her, in 3 quick steps he is out of her cell and continuing his count, not even bothering to lock her door, knowing all cells will be opened in 2 minutes when he has finished.

She suddenly feels cold, the warmth of him pressed up against her now like a drug, and she is craving more. She wants to run her nails down his torso, followed by her tongue. She wants to kiss his lips, feel the softness of his mouth in contrast to the prickle of his stubble. She wants his strong hands on her body, rough and sure. She wanted Locksley and she was going to get him, even if it is the last thing she does.

For the next few mornings she's ready for him, waiting until he reaches her cell to toss him a glance, and to utter a low "Locksley" in greeting. It works too, she notices the way he swallows deeply, the way he grips his counter hard, turning his knuckles white.

On the fifth morning, the bell rings, but the lights do not turn on. She waits. Still no light. Then she hears the opening of her block door, and sees the bounce of a torchlight in the corridor running along her block. After a moment of the torch bouncing around she hears footsteps, approaching her cell quick and fast.

Then he's there, torch being used to help him unlock her cell, he steps into her space, his torch to the ground, both of them looking at each other in the dim light.

"The lights are out across the grid, no electrician can get here till tomorrow because the prison is low on the priority list. So you're coming with me." He commands.

"Officer Locksley?"

With a groan he reaches into his belt, grabbing the handcuffs there and snaps them on her wrist. He pulls her from her cell then, walking with her until they reach a large closet in a far off corridor in the prison. He shuts and locks the door, before turning to her.

He walks towards her, and when stood right before her, he leans past her, placing his torch on the shelf, lighting the room slightly. He walks around her then, his words making her knees want to buckle with the anticipation of what was about to happen.

"You disobeyed me. You undermine my authority, inmate. I have no choice but to punish you."

He stands back in front of her then, eyes piercing hers.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I've been bad officer, and I will take your punishment."

He reaches into his pocket, and much to her evident disappointment he unlocks her handcuffs and frees her wrists.

She casts her glance down, rubbing at where the handcuffs had dug into her skin, fidgeting to hide her disappointment.

"Oh, don't get too used to it, this is just for now while you undress for me."

She immediately looks back up at him then, that warmth spreading in her belly, feeling herself growing wet at the thought of him taking her while she wears the handcuffs. She strips herself quickly, divesting her body of her prison uniform and underwear and then stands before him, naked.

She suddenly feels empty, all these months she has been stripped of her freedom and control and now, she is using the only thing she has left, her body, for some kind of control. Is this what her life has come to? Using sex for some kind of grip on the life she has had taken away from her? How did she get here? She feels the self loathing creep around her, threatening to consume her, when she hears him.

She had almost forgotten he was there, the self loathing that had followed her around since childhood managing to fill her with darkness so that she monetarily couldn't see anything else.

"You're beautiful." He remarks, with a disbelieving shake of his head. "Stunning, in every way."

She gives him a soft smile, the darkness around her fading again, until the only thing surrounding them is want. He takes a step towards her, pulling her close to him. He presses his lips against hers, a soft confirmation of his statement. His hands travel down her body, until they meet her wrists, he holds them together, before reaching again for his handcuffs.

"Are you ready for you punishment?"

She nods quickly, allowing him to guide her to a chair, trapping her hands in the cuffs until they are locked behind her, her fingers wrapping around the back of the chair, for some kind of grip.

He bends towards her, kissing her mouth before journeying down her neck, pausing to suck at her pulse point, causing Regina to squirm underneath him. He hums in satisfaction before planting kisses along her collar bone, his hands coming up to squeeze at her nipple, until it is pebbled and sensitive. His mouth takes its place on her other nipple, alternating sucks with soft scrapes of teeth, underneath him, Regina presses her thighs together, the gathering wetness and lack of friction nearing on unbearable.

He kneels then, stationing himself between her thighs, stopping her from closing them. Regina lets out a low growl, but he merely chuckles, swapping his actions so that the nipple damp with spit is now being rolled in-between his fingers.

After what feels like an age of Regina getting wetter and wetter, unable to do anything to release the tension building inside her, he makes his way down her body, parting her thighs wider with his hands. When he reaches her core, he lifts her legs up, and hooks them over his shoulders, lifting her hips slightly from the chair, giving him better access to feast on her sex.

He waists no time, planting his mouth straight on her clit and giving her a long hard suck, her hips bucking against him with the sudden contact. He doesn't stop though, simply winds a hand from under her leg around her waist to keep her in place. He alternates his movements, licking at her, and then flicking his tongue against her, she gasps and moans in reaction, but it's when he wraps his lips around her swollen bud and sucks that she arches her back and pulls on her bonds, the metal cutting into her wrists giving nothing but release from the toe curling pleasure he is creating. He works her up and up, before pulling away. She's about to protest when he sinks a finger inside her, causing whatever words to die in her throat and her head to snap back against the chair. He adds a second finger, and curves them up until he's pressed against that spot inside her.

When he puts his mouth back to work on her clit and continues pressing and pressing against her with his fingers, she is touching the skies, her pleasure building up in currents, she tightens her legs against him, every muscle in her body tensing up.

"Please…please…pl-don't stop, right there…I'm gonna…" She babbles, until her orgasm hits her, rendering her speechless, her breath caught in her throat. He pulls his mouth away form her, watching her every move, but his fingers don't let up, extending her orgasm for as long as he can, her walls tensing arounds his fingers.

He lets her down then, placing her feet back on the ground, and travelling up her body until he catches her mouth in a kiss, her neck bending up to reach him as best she can with her hands still stuck, tasting herself on his tongue.

He pulls away from her, his piercing blue eyes a shade darker than she has ever seen them, even in the low light. An expression on his face only readable as hunger.

"I want you." He breathes, his eyes roaming her body.

"Take me."

He doesn't need to be told twice, he quickly undoes his belt, sending his trousers to the floor, he strips himself of his shirt, toeing off his shoes before shaking off his trousers with them, lastly, he pulls down his boxers, erection springing free. Regina watches him in anticipation, exploring his glorious body with her eyes. She watches his muscly arms as he bends down to his trousers, reaching into his pocket. He takes her cuffs off, massaging her wrists briefly.

"Are you okay to keep wearing these?" He questions, eyes searching her face.

"I'd be disappointed if I didn't." She teases, causing him to grin back at her.

"Okay, up, turn around, bend over." He instructs, pressing against her back to get her to bend before him, presenting her glorious ass to him. He walks around her, put the cuffs on her wrists, keeping her hands locked in place and this time he locks the cuffs on the other side of the chair, keeping her hands through the bars of the seat.

He walks back behind her, his hands smoothing over her creamy skin. She feels his cock pressing against the inside of her thigh and she shudders in anticipation. His hands leave her skin, one tightening on her hip the other leaving her, lining himself up to enter her. Then, he slides in.

Regina lets out a deep exhale, feeling him fill her, a perfect fit.

"You feel so good."

She grins at the reaction she has drawn from him, and then leans down further, until her elbows are resting on the seat of the chair, tipping her ass further up towards him.

Robin takes her signal, and begins to move inside her. He pulls himself nearly all the way out, before slamming back into her quickly, hitting that spot inside her again, causing her to cry out. He does it again, drawing all the way back, letting Regina feel every inch, before thrusting straight back into her again. He repeats until on the fifth or sixth slide of his hips against hers she squeezes her walls tight around him as he draws out, causing him to let out a deep moan. After that he changes his tactics, he slams back into her and this time, doesn't lose his pace, he continues to thrust against her, fast but deep, still hitting that spot inside her, but this time repeatedly in quick succession. It has her breath deepening, moans spilling out of her, the sounds of both their pleasure filling the air.

"I need…I need…my clit" She stammers, pleading with him to help her get there. It's awkward, but he manages to reach a hand round and press against her clit. Too awkward for any real movement but enough to tip her over the edge. She lets out a wail of pleasure, her orgasm taking her, causing her to see stars. She forgets the pain in her wrists, becoming lost in her own body, she floats somewhere above, the pleasure almost overwhelming. She is brought out of her moment by Robins grunt and his stilling inside her, holding her hips against him as he spills out, the contracting motion of her walls milking him dry until he softens inside her.

He slips out of her, feeling the loss immediately. He grabs the key, undoing her bonds and inspecting her wrists.

"You should have said if they were too tight." He says, his hands stroking against the marks left behind.

"I promise I didn't even notice. It all felt too good," she teases, nudging her shoulder into his.

"I'll bring you some lotion that'll soothe it, I'll get you it in count tomorrow." He promises, pressing a kiss to her wrists.

He drops her hands, and precedes to gather his clothes, passing her his handkerchief to wipe herself clean, and then beginning to dress himself again.

She is frozen, his last kiss to her wrists making her feel all kinds of conflicting emotions.

"You care." She states, catching his attention. "Why?"

"Well, Miss Mills, despite what you think, and despite what this place makes you feel. You are still a human, everyone has a past, and I want you to know, this isn't the end. You shouldn't lose hope that being here is the end. We all get a second chance."

Despite her self loathing, despite her pessimism, she finds herself believing him.

 **Penny for your thoughts? xxx**


	7. Chapter 7

**Here's a bit of Hood-Mills family fluff for ouat day :)**

 **It's set after Marian returns, but as if Zelena did die. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Go on Roland, Daddy's watching!" Robin tells him from his position.

"I'm gonna hit it! Watch!" Roland replies, his chubby cheeks flushed, his breath steamy against the cold morning air.

Robin watches Roland pull back, the way he taught him, his short fingers pressed against his face, his expression one of unrivalled determination. When he releases, the arrow flies forward, he has exactly the right speed and strength needed to hit the target a few feet in front of him. Not too far, he's only a child at the end of the day, but far enough to warrant some sort of skill.

Robin holds his breath, watches the arrow fly. It ends up landing decidedly away from its target. Robin screws up his face at first, knowing he had the right speed. It was almost as if he had aimed in completely the wrong direction, because Roland had done all the necessary steps to get this right, but to no avail. Robin looks across at Roland, realises the chocolate brown eyes are on him, on his Daddy.

When they catch each others eyes, Robin's face splits into a wide grin, one that matches on Roland's face. Two sets of dimples coming on full show. At his Father's smile, Roland begins to run to Robin, his little arms dropping the kid-sized bow he had been holding, his legs going as fast as they can go. Once he reaches Robin, he scoops him up, throwing him in the air before catching him and pulling him in close, pressing his face into Roland's mop of curls.

"Did I do good?" Roland asks, leaning away from Robin to look into his Dad's eyes.

"So good Roland! So nearly there!" Not one to kill the hope in his son's heart. "Just a little bit more practice and you'll be even better than me!"

It happens again at Christmas, when Robin and Roland are helping Regina and Henry decorate the tree at Mifflin Street.

"Robin, just a little bit higher on that bit." Regina instructs, her face screwed up, trying to get the perfect drape of fairy lights across their tree.

Robin moves the string of lights, looking back to her for affirmation. Robin smiles when he looks at her, her head tilted to one side, fingers pressed to her lips.

"Perfect yet?" Robin asks, pulling her out of her concentration.

"I think so." She tells him, with a smile.

"Ready for Operation Bauble!" Henry cries, with a little nudge to Roland, willing him to help him start unpacking the ornaments for hanging on the branches.

Robin strides across the room to her, nuzzling into her from behind, his arms coming around her waist. Regina's body answers immediately, relaxing into his broad chest, a sigh leaving her lips. She fights the urge to close her eyes, wanting to savour every moment of this perfect day. Three of the people she loves most, her favourite boys, turning the once lonesome mansion into a home.

"You're cute when you're concentrating." Robin says breathily into her ear.

"I'm a lot of things. Cute is not one of them." Regina tells him, her hips pressing back into his. It was a move meant to nudge him away from her a bit, a little show of annoyance at being called cute, but it ends up pressing her ass into his now half-erection. Oops.

"You're a minx." Robin groans, his hands tightening around her waist.

"Ha! Down boy." She tells him, peeling out of his arms, turning to give him a quick kiss.

"Guys! Gross!" Henry protests, with an exasperated sigh.

"Yeah, gross!" Roland repeats, his face matching Henry's in disgust, although Regina knows the littlest of their boys is only copying Henry, as is his habit.

Regina chuckles, walking away from Robin, kneeling to help the boys unpack the ornaments.

"So who's passing? Who's hanging?" Regina asks the two of them.

"I'm passing, Roland's hanging. That way I can make sure the colours are spread evenly, right Mom?" Henry tells her teasingly, aware of Regina's need for perfection on her Christmas tree, his shoulder nudging into hers.

"Watch it you! Or you'll be off bauble duty all together." She jokes.

She hears Robin laughing, and turns to look back at him, allowing the boys to continue unwrapping the decorations.

"Shouldn't you be going to sort your little problem out in the kitchen?" Regina teases.

"You and I both know it's not a _little_ problem."

"Are you two being gross again?" Henry asks them, his eyes narrowed, before Roland catches his attention, itching to tell him which ornaments he likes best.

Regina sits back on her knees, a little choked at the implication of what just happened. Her little boy is getting older, and it makes her heart clench inside her chest. Years ago, an adult conversation like that would have flown over his head. She looks at him, huddled close with Roland. Looks at how much of him there is compared to Robin's son. How he doesn't have the chubby hands Roland has, how his pudgy cheeks have begun to hollow.

She feels Robin's hands ground her, his thumbs digging into her shoulders, aware of the sudden change in Regina's disposition. Ever attentive, ever loving. She reaches up and puts her hand over his on her shoulder, letting him know she's okay. She rises from the floor, joining Robin on the sofa to watch (and in her case, police) the boys hanging the ornaments.

They settle on the sofa together, Regina's legs curled up under her, her side pressed against his. His arm is draped across her shoulders, his hand drawing soothing circles on her shoulder.

She settles into his side and sighs deeply, her whole body becoming relaxed and heavy against him. She watches Henry worry his lip as he chooses a bauble, watches him direct Roland who clumsily hangs them where directed.

Then she notices it. Roland continually dropping the baubles becomes a pattern, clearly not a mistake made occasionally. She watches him closely. On each turn, he goes to hang the branch, but he is inches shy of the branch causing him to stumble or sometimes to drop the bauble. It makes Henry giggle, which in turn makes Roland none too bothered about not succeeding, not when he's making Henry laugh.

She nudges Robin. To which he replies with a sleepy _mmm?_

"Have you noticed a problem with Roland's sight?" Regina asks him, low enough to say out of earshot of their giggling boys.

"What?"

"Watch him. He's not recognising the distance."

"Fine, but I'm sure you're just worrying." He leans forward then, watching the boys.

Sure enough, Roland is clearly struggling with his distance and sight. He wonders how he didn't put two and two together before. When he thinks about it, there had been a lot of times when Roland had shown difficultly, right back to being a tiny tot who, for the life of him, completely failed to match the square block to the square hole, or the circle block to the circle hole. He had avoided any other visual toys, growing up, ever since. No jigsaws, no colouring and no drawing for Roland, he'd just never shown interest. Had become frustrated when it was forced upon him. Robin mentally kicks himself for not even taking notice of his own son. He'd always just assumed his boy was more into doing, he'd always had no problem being outside, helping the Merry Men.

He turns back to Regina, and she's looking at him pointedly, eyebrow raised, arms crossed.

"Well?"

"As usual, you're right." He says with a smile, "What do you do in this world when a little boy needs some help seeing?"

"Well, it's fairly easy to sort." Regina explains, leaning back in to Robin, resuming their former position. "We'll get him registered at the opticians here..."

When she notices his confusion, she explains;

"They look after your eyes." That satisfies Robin, so she continues. "Then they'll do some tests to see how bad the problem is, then they'll make him up some glasses to wear, perfectly fitted for him."

"Ahh, I see." He turns his face into her hair, "What would I do without you?"

"Struggle." She says simply, with a smirk.

Roland sits in the large clinical chair, his legs swinging.

"Are you sure this won't hurt Daddy?"

Robin looks to Regina, she knows he doesn't _really_ know the answer to this, but he answers anyway.

"No sunshine, the nice lady will ask you to look through some different glasses and you've got to tell her which one is the best, okay?" Robin tells him from their seat in the corner, giving him a reassuring smile.

Roland nods, his little eyes wide, how he looks when he's about to burst into tears, Robin notes.

"There will be some letters too, okay? Like we practised at home?" Regina tells him then, rising from her seat and touching her fingertips under his chin. A move, for 12 years of her life solely reserved for Henry. But, when their little family unit formed, she found herself doing it to Roland too.

"Will it spell my name?" Roland asks with an innocence only a child his age has.

"That would be exciting wouldn't it!" Robin exclaims, "Do you know what letters you're looking for?"

"Yep." Roland puffs up his chest, his nerves beginning to melt away, much to Robin and Regina's relief. "ROLAND."

"That's right! You see any of those you give us a shout, okay?" Robin tells Roland, leaving his seat to run a hand through his hair before pressing his head against him in as much a hug their height difference allow them at this point. "We'll be right there the whole time."

The door of their little room opens then and a young woman with long brunette hair and a kind face walks in, clipboard in hand. She directs a wide smile at Roland, offering her hand for his pudgy one to take.

"Hello! I'm Sophie. And who might you be?"

"Roland! That's ROLAND." He tells her with a lick of pride.

Sophie beams at Roland, his cuteness irresistible.

"Nice to meet you Roland!" Sophie turns to Robin and Regina then, "you must be his parents."

Regina freezes momentarily, unsure what to say.

"Yeah, we are." Robin answers without hesitation. "Are we okay to stay in here with him?"

"Yeah, that's no problem at all."

Regina watches the exchange between Robin and Sophie take place. After everything they've been through, fighting with a Wicked Witch and then Marian's return and then him choosing her, she can't quite believe they are finally one, a unit, where Robin totally accepts Regina as a Mother figure for his son. Robin never ceases to amaze Regina in the way that he totally accepts her, doesn't ask her to be any more than she is, accepts that the past is the past.

As far as Robin is concerned, Regina is his future.

While Regina has been in her reverie, Sophie has begun asking Roland questions, some of them he can answer on his own, some Robin has to help him with. Once they've finished that, they ask Roland to put his chin against a large machine.

"Roland, have you had your photo taken before?" Sophie asks him.

"Yes! Gina has ones on her phone but I'm not allowed to play with that."

"Ah, I see! Well, this machine is going to take a picture of your eye, but you have to be a big brave boy because it is going to be really bright, okay?" Sophie explains as she sets up the machine.

"Daddy says I'm brave." Roland tells her with the most serious expression on his face.

"Well, you'll have no problem then. Ready?"

The machine clicks and Roland pulls back.

"Oh Daddy, I can't see! Only colours!" Roland says, panicking a little.

"It's okay, we're here. It'll go in a second." Robin explains, itching to comfort his son, but trying to stay out of the Opticians way.

Roland screws up his little face, blinks a little bit and gradually his face softens again. Regina's heart swells at his adorable reaction.

"You're right! It's gone!" Roland exclaims with glee.

"Okay, this all looks okay to me, would you like to look Roland?" Sophie asks.

"Yeah!" Sophie turns around her screen then, allowing Roland to see. "But that's not my eye! That's all red! My eye is like Gina's." Roland's face forms into a frown.

"Yes, your eyes are brown, but this is picture really, really close, taken from the back of your eye. This isn't the bit of your eye that everyone can see, this is secret." Sophie tells him, conspiratorially, voice hushed.

Roland gives her one serious nod in return, lapping it all up.

Next, they move onto looking through the lenses.

"Okay, I'm going to put this funny pair of glasses on you now, Roland."

She places the instrument on his nose, tightening the arms so that they fit his face. Roland giggles excitedly.

"Look at me! I got glasses!" Roland squeals, causing Regina to reach into her bag and grab her phone, taking a quick snap of Roland before he has to start the next part of the test. Regina pulls the photo up, with a giggle herself, nudging Robin to show him.

"Okay Roland, I want you to tell me if you can see those letters clearly." Sophie asks him, pointing to the board across the room.

"They're fuzzy." Roland wines, turning to look at Regina and Robin.

Sophie nods slightly, adjusting the lens.

"How about now?" She asks, leaning back again.

"Nope, worse." Roland tells her, his short patience running out.

Sophie leans in again, switches up the lens.

"Now?"

"Better! Daddy there's a R!" Roland shouts out, his voice turning high pitched and giddy at the sudden revelation. Regina supposes his excitement is fair enough when the poor kid has just been given clear sight for the first time in his life.

"And what does R stand for?" Robin asks him, encouragingly.

"Roland!" He answers to the joy of everyone in the room, then he stops, thinks for a moment, doing such a comical impression of thinking that Regina's fingers itch to take another photo. "And Regina!"

Roland's face is so wonderfully proud that Regina has to restrain herself from leaving her seat in the corner of the room and grabbing him for one of his cuddles. When Sophie begins asking Roland a few more questions she turns to look at Robin, and finds him looking back. They share the moment together, both of them knowing how much love Regina has felt for the little boy in such a short time. It might only be a tiny thing for Roland but it feels like one more acceptance for Regina. This little boy who simply sees her at face value, as Regina, and not as any of her past. Regina wonders how lucky she was to find her twin set of Locksley dimples.

Soon enough, the Optician has found the right set of lenses for Roland, and they are being ushered out of their little room and off to choose the frames.

"Okay Roland, this is the important bit. You've got to pick how you want them to look." Sophie explains as they walk, Regina and Robin following on behind. She takes him over to the children's section. A whole rack of colourful frames for him to pick from.

"Can I have green?" Roland asks sweetly, "green is my favourite colour!"

"If there's some green ones you like, of course you can." Sophie tells him, with a smile.

He runs up to the frames, a little in awe of all the choice. Sophie leaves them then, Robin and Regina step forward to assist Roland.

"There! There's green at the top!" Roland exclaims, pointing.

Robin reaches said frames down and places them on Roland's face. Roland turns to look in the mirror, his face screwing up slightly.

"Nope. Don't like them."

"Okay baby, let's try another pair." Regina soothes as she passes him a plainer pair.

"Nope, too boring." Roland whines.

"What about these?" Robin asks, taking the ones off of his nose and putting a new pair on.

"Too green!" He moans, his little lip curling out in a pout.

"But sunshine, you wanted green." Robin says, a little desperate.

"Not _that_ green." Roland murmurs quietly.

Regina scans the frames, then, just to the side, she spots a pair. They're not the green Roland wanted, but they're the most beautiful shade of red, a muted tone, not too garish for him. When she picks them up out of the rack, she notices that the pair have tiny foxes running down the sides. She smiles, this is the pair for Roland.

"Hey, look at these. What do you think?"

"They've got foxes! Foxes, Daddy!" Roland squeals, yanking on Robin's sleeve to grab his attention.

"Your favourite." Robin says with a little smiled of relief, directed at Regina.

Roland puts them on his face, and turns to the mirror. A small gasp leaves his lips, his body leaning towards to mirror to take a closer look.

Regina and Robin hold their breath as he makes his decision, watching him turn his body this way and that to see the foxes on the sides of the glasses.

"I love them!" He cries, much to his parent's relief. "Can I have these please?"

"Of course you can sweetheart, we'll take them to the counter."

Regina and Robin sort out the necessary paperwork, confirming that they will return with Roland in a week to pick up his new glasses and their little boy couldn't be more excited.

Roland spends the week telling everybody he meets about his glasses. About how 'they're specially made for him', how he had a picture taken of his eye 'but that's a secret', how he has named the foxes on each side of the frames.

Regina and Robin feel relief in the way Roland has taken to them, any worries they had about his reaction melting away.

On the day of going to pick up Roland's glasses Regina has to work, leaving Robin to pick them up alone. She's home already when they arrive back.

She hears Roland's cries before Robin is through the front door.

She rushes down the stairs, greeted by the face of an exasperated Robin and the back of a crying Roland on his shoulder. Regina takes the bags from his hands, notices the glasses in their case. Allows Robin to take Roland through to the living room to begin soothing him as she takes the bags into to the kitchen, puts away the bits of groceries that they had run out of. She hears Roland's cries subside into hiccups, and then, the TV go on. Robin appears in the kitchen door moments later.

"So what happened?"

"Well, he _was_ fine, we fitted the glasses and we sorted everything, and we were leaving and he went to wear them and he got...I don't know...five minutes down the road and just decided he didn't like them. Burst into tears. Think now he's upset because he wants to have good vision, but just doesn't want to wear them." Robin explains.

"Wearing them all the time is a little different to trying them on in the shop, I suppose." Regina tells Robin.

"What are we going to do?" Robin asks Regina, a little bit desperately.

"We'll think of something." She tells him, a hand against his shoulder. "How is he now?"

"Getting better. Refusing to wear them though, even though I know he can't really see the TV properly." Robin explains with a roll of his eyes, the stubbornness of his little boy.

Regina thinks for a second. Then, she has an idea.

"Pass me the glasses." She takes them and heads upstairs, to her bedside table, searching through the drawer.

She pulls out a small case, flicks it open, pulling out the frames. _Her_ glasses, the ones she decided she didn't need, shoved away. Maybe they would come into perfect use now. She goes back downstairs, finding Roland in the living room, joining him on the sofa. He snuggles into her automatically, her arm going around to hold him against her.

"Hey little guy." Regina soothes as she runs her fingers through his curls. "I've got a secret I've never told anyone."

He sits up at that, looks at her curiously.

"Not even Daddy?"

"Nope. You'll be the first person I've told."

She reaches into her pocket then, pulls out her pair of glasses, placed them on her nose.

"I have some too."

"You have to wear them too?" Roland asks, his eyes going wide.

"Yep. These are better than any magic I can make. I keep them upstairs, and if I don't wear them, my eyes get tired and my head gets sore." Regina tells him.

"How are they magic?" He asks, innocently.

"Because they take these two eyes," she taps on each of his cheeks, "and make them into the best eyes of all."

"They do?!" Roland asks.

"Yep! So how about, if I wear mine, you'll wear yours?"

"Hmm. But what if they fall off? Daddy said to be careful with them and I can't do anything cos they might fall off." He tells Regina, quietly.

"Is that what you've been worried about?"

"Well, I won't be able to play in the park or run around or dance or anything." Roland explains.

"Roland, they're specially fitted to you, that means they're not going to fall off." She tells him, bringing him in against her again. "Shall we test it out?"

She feels Roland nod against her. She pulls him away from her so she can leave the sofa.

"Watch, Roland."

She does a little jump about on the spot, spins around and then holds her hands open, a little flourish to end her routine.

"See! They stayed on my face!" Roland still looks wary so she encourages him. "Come on, you try."

He does, he stands and does a little wiggle with his bum, Regina scoffing out a laugh. Then he spins around as quick as he can. When he finishes he reaches up to his face, his little face going wide with shock when he realises his glasses have not moved. He runs around a little more, climbs onto the sofa and jumps off, all the while his glasses staying safe. Regina laughs as she watches him testing out his new eyewear. When he climbs onto the sofa once more, Regina stands, turning to face him. She reaches out and he runs and jumps into her arms, Regina giving him a little jostle before pulling him in close.

"Wow! They really are magic!" He tells her.

"Of course they are." She agrees, pressing a little kiss to his head.

"Thank you for doing that. I really don't know what else I'd have done." Robin tells her later, when they're alone, spooned up in bed together.

"It's okay, Roland needs them so we had to find some way." She tells him with a sigh.

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?" Robin teases.

"What do you mean?"

"Glasses." He says pointedly.

"Well, I don't really like wearing them, and I don't need them, so I don't."

"Well, I like them." Robin says, pulling her closer against him.

"You like anything on me." Regina sighs, with a roll of her eyes Robin can't see.

"True."

Then Regina smirks, "how much?"

"You want me to tell you? Or show you?" Robin asks, turning her around, sliding to move above her.

"What do you think?" Regina asks, eyebrow raised.

He leans down and joins their mouths then, a kiss, not heated, but one filled with gratitude and promise. A kiss not in line with the flirting that had led them there. But a kiss representative of respect and love, the qualities that define their wonderful little relationship.

When he pulls back and looks into her eyes, both him and Regina think to themselves how lucky they are to have each other, the second chance they didn't think they deserved. But they had found each other, in the end, and they would stay together, always.

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 **Hope this made you smile :) x**


	8. Chapter 8

_"_ _Who knew the Evil Queen had a soft spot for children?"_

 _That's what he had said._

She might be separated from Regina, but she still has all of her memories, she remembers every moment. The moments she had shared with Regina, when they were still one, are blurred, out of focus. Like finding a photograph of yourself that you don't remember being taken. Her thoughts since the split, however, feel sharp.

The feelings towards Snow and Charming fuel her anger, her fire. She sees the night on the rooftop, just seconds after her split from Regina. Sees Snow encouraging Regina to crush her heart acutely, tinged with red. She feels it burn her, the sting of one more betrayal in their checkered history.

The feelings towards Zelena are mixed. She feels the power in Zelena, the magic that radiates off of her. She imagines the benefits of their alliance, the way she could manipulate Zelena, the woman who only ever wanted a family. But she also feels the scorch of her sister taking what she could never have from her, the way she had become pregnant out of spite, using Robin to kick her in the teeth in a way she knows she could never have fought back.

Robin.

 _Robin._

The memories with Robin scare her.

As the Queen there were many notches in her royal bedpost, but always for power, always strategic. She thinks of Graham, thinks of the countless other men who had taken what they wanted from her. She thinks of Leopold. She had never known the feeling of a loving touch, of a partner. Not really, not until Robin. Gaining the memories of Robin takes her back to the smell of hay, to soft touches from Daniel, to stolen kisses. To a woman she hardly recognises.

During the time between New York and coming to Storybrooke she was alone. That's when she had allowed the blurred memories of Robin bleed through. She allowed every misty moment take root inside her, allowing the flame to spread. She used every will she had to try and bring the memories into sharper focus, wanted to test feeling what Regina felt.

In the memories she finds a hazy moment of pure happiness. It had been simple, a tiny hand grasping hers, cold air making cheeks flush and the sight of your breath forming in front of you. Roland, Robin, and ice cream. That moment had flicked into one of gratitude and passion. A kiss as Roland sped ahead, the comforting warmth of a body pressed against her, a smile taken from her face in the only way you want it to be, with a kiss.

She also discovers a memory that tinges red, not like the red of memories with Snow, a deeper red. Her vault, she works out. The way he had come to her, had _wanted_ her. The joining together of their bodies, that had been like the feeling of coming home. The way he slept beside her, when she watched him, memorising the lines of his face, her thumbs dipping into dimples until she knew every single detail.

Once she has indulged, she pushes the memories of Robin down, unsure what exactly to do with them. Her instinct tells her no, love is weakness. But a teeny tiny knot in the very back of her chest whispers otherwise, taunts her with the possibility that it might be strength. She doesn't know where that feeling comes from, tries not to hear it. She wonders if perhaps it found a place in the shadow where her heart once sat? But she doesn't ponder it, hides the feeling of uncertainty, finds it threatening.

She keeps pushing the memories down, makes her entrance in Storybrooke, uses the Count. A masterful plan, manipulating Regina into killing him. The first step in the habitants and their secrets coming together to tear themselves apart.

She's successful, has Regina sufficiently riled, until she returns to Zelena's farm house.

The baby had been there when she had visited Zelena the first time. She had felt it deep within her. She didn't allow herself to ponder for a moment whether her soulmate's child could make her feel some sort of connection. She had ignored it, concentrated on Zelena, on working around her tactically, gaining her trust.

The second time she visits Zelena, her sister is asleep. She sits at her seat in the table, the same place as the first night here and she does everything in her power to ignore the infant at her side.

She begins to work on an outfit, the luxury of her castle's wardrobe not on hand here in this world. She imagines up fabrics and colours, decides on a rich blue, embellished with the darkest of blacks. She manages to lose herself in the design, briefly. She's fixing up the details on black buttons to adorn the front of her outfit when she is interrupted.

The shrill cry of a baby pierces her reverie.

Her head snaps towards the child and she finds herself leaving her chair, standing over the cot.

She's almost forced back with the way that knot in her chest tightens when she locks eyes with the babe.

 _She has your eyes._

Big blue orbs stare back at her, tears threatening to fall down rosy cheeks. The cry had stopped when she had stood over the cot, but small snuffles are still ever present.

She takes in her tiny form, swaddled in pink, a surprising choice for the woman who seems to own nothing that isn't green. Then, she looks back at her eyes. So unyieldingly blue, eyes she knows, eyes she remembers.

Robin's child. The connection between her sister and her soulmate that she could never have. The obstacle between them that would do nothing but grow. The daughter she had vowed to help Robin save.

The Evil Queen is seared with memories of _that_ day.

Her Robin, blocking her from the strike of light that had threatened to obliterate her, taking his soul instead. She remembers every single one of Regina's feelings from those final moments, every question, each emotion washing over her like an ice cold shower.

Why did he have to be so good? So unselfish? So loving?

Why did he love her? Of all the people more worthy of him, why had he chosen her?

Her first love was killed because he loved her, why would this be any different?

Why then? Leaving his son alone, and his daughter only moments out of his grasp.

Why her? Was this her fate? Her curse?

Then she thinks of him, the way his body had absorbed the light from the crystal and there had been a moment of calm. The eye of the storm, as if time had stopped around them. Robin had turned to face her then, had chosen to have her face as the last face he ever saw. He told her once that he thought about her smile every time he closed his eyes. And with his eyes about to close forever, would he be at peace with the lasting memory of her? She remembers his body crumpling to the floor, but she hadn't watched that, that wasn't Robin. She had her gaze fixed on the blue light of his soul, the way he had reached out to her and the way her hands reacted instinctively, her fingers grasping to any part of him. And then, he had gone.

 _Blue._

Her favourite colour, her favourite colour long before she met him and only strengthened upon learning his eyes were that exact colour. It was almost cruelly ironic that his soul had been her favourite shade, or maybe it was obvious, the blue hue of her soulmate, the person designed to be her partner, forever.

And now here she was, looking into the same blue of his daughter's eyes.

She bends, reaching into the cot, gathering up the baby in her arms, and settling back into her seat.

She's going off that knot in her chest. Her brain screams out at her for this, tells her not to do everything she is, but the tiny knot is stubborn, and it wants to soothe.

"Once upon a time, there was a thief." She begins, producing a small silver rattle in her hand. "But he wasn't a mean thief, he was good, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. Although, despite his kindness, he found himself alone, a hole in his heart filled deep with sadness only relieved through the love of his son. Then, one day, when his son is in terrible danger, his little boy is saved by a queen. The thief recognises that the sadness that lives in him, lives in the queen too. And he longs to lift her sorrow, to tell her that she too, deserves a second chance."

"Over time, the thief shows the queen that their future is not written by their past, that whatever has gone doesn't determine who she can be, who she is. He helps her to see that she can be loved, and that she can have a family, that she isn't alone. They become the strongest partnership, soulmates, able to overcome the hand that life continually deals them."

She looks down at the baby, now cooing softly, tears subsided. When their eyes lock, blue on brown, the child's face splits into a smile, joy shining out. She feels herself smiling back, rocking the baby back and forth.

"And that, baby girl, is how the thief fell in love with a queen." She taps the baby once on the nose with the rattle, causing her to gurgle happily. "How your Daddy fell in love with me."


	9. Chapter 9

hey! it's been 9 weeks since I wrote ANYTHING and bam, Robin came back and look what happened. Enjoy a bit of Regina's grief and seeing Robin again. x

This is inspired by the song 'You Learn to Live Without' from the musical If/Then.

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Grief.

She sees it everywhere at first.

She sees it in her favourite soft, duck egg blue. A colour she had ceased to wear, too soft for Mayor Mills, but still her favourite. It had been a colour reminiscent of her soft riding jacket, reminiscent of the smell of hay and the feeling of soft lips against hers.

Now the blue is just Robin's eyes. She'd mused one night, while cupping his jaw, her thumb stroking across stubble and seeking out dimples, that of course her soulmate's eye colour would be the tone of blue that she had always loved.

She sees it in the bottle of whisky on the shelf. They'd never voiced it, but whisky had been their drink. Way back when they were all still searching for Zelena, and the two of them had gone into the farmhouse looking for clues, he'd been bold enough to suggest a drink there and then. The first moment she saw the tattoo. Well, second moment really, both times causing her to run.

The adventures shared fighting Zelena had quickly turned to sleepy nights in, curled up on the sofa, fire roaring after a flick of her wrist. Robin's glass of whisky resting on the knees she has tucked up in his lap. The amber liquid was a comfort then, she'd be greeted with the taste of it when they traded sleepy kisses.

Now the crystal bottle is him, beautiful and breakable. No, not breakable. Robin was strong. Shatterable. He wasn't to be there forever, had given her proof of that, his body in her arms.

She sees it in the light that streams through her curtains in the morning. Having spent most of his years sleeping under the blanket of the stars, Robin woke with the sun. The light would fill her bedroom and he would be there, his arm around her, her face tucked under his chin, their legs tangled. They slept as one, then, as morning broke, he would draw gentle circles across her back with his fingertips, lean down and press kisses into her hair.

Now the light wakes her, but he isn't there.

But she has a son, a town, an almost family. And she is Regina, and her grief is nobody's business but hers.

You learn to live without.

She learns to drink the whisky, to enjoy it. To think of every taste of Robin's lips as the liquid burns her throat. She drowns in that taste, and the memory it evokes. She learns to fall asleep alone, without his warm embrace. She sleeps in an array of his shirts, the soft greens are a colour she is never seen in but she takes comfort in them nevertheless. She learns to quell the unpredictable tide of unprompted tears. She can go days at a time now without them coming to haunt her. She counts them. She learns to speak so calmly, even when her heart is screaming and shouting inside her chest. She puts on her Regina face and she functions. She learns to stop, and breathe and smile. She moves his favourite shoes from the rack in the under stair cupboard to hidden away in her closet. Safe and treasured, but moved. She sees him in the faces of those he left behind. She sees the blue of his eyes in his daughter's. She sees his spirit in the faces of the Merry Men, their pictures, along with Robin's of course, hung on Granny's wall. She learns to hold his life inside her and to never let it out.

They'd done it.

It was unusual for them if she was perfectly honest with herself. Regina had managed to outsmart the queen, find Emma in the 'wish world', wake her up and acquire a magic bean that allowed her to leave. All in a days work.

She'd laughed with Emma over her 'princess' model. Singing and picking flowers, and her offer to fight the queen with a word of surrender and a key to the kingdom. They'd gripped each others hands, and prepared to jump into the swirling green of the portal.

Then the arrow had been fired.

The unmistakable creak of an archer firing at its prey. They had ducked immediately, fallen to the ground. Another arrow shot then, landing again in the piece of drift wood on the lakeside.

Regina had looked about frantically, before spotting its source.

There he was.

As bold as brass.

Robin.

"Not another step, ladies."

She took him in.

His voice, the accent as thick as she had held on to and unmistakably his.

His hair looked a little different, shorter.

His clothes were those of the Enchanted Forest and she's quickly sucker punched with the memory of their first real meeting. Hit with the way it parallels to now. Him, firing an arrow with precision, her wearing a mask to hide some form of grief. That time for her son, and this time, for him.

But there he is, arrow poised, looking as heroic as the story's make him out to be. As heroic as he was.

"It can't be." Regina murmurs, her shock speaking for her, moving her legs towards him. The urge to check, to take a closer look too strong to fight.

"This is a robbery."

Of course it is. The thief. Her thief.

She's insulted then with a memory of him, dimly lit, their final moment together. The walk through that tunnel, where he had promised her that she was his future. His future, so quickly taken away. Maybe this is it? Maybe this is the sick way that promise would turn out. Another cruel joke.

"Robin?" She asks, tentatively.

She hears Emma speak, but she doesn't even register what she says. Too far gone now, drowning in this feeling and swimming down.

"Off with the jewellery, lets go!"

"Robin?"

She starts to close the distance between them, it is him. Unmistakably so. Emma continues to cry out to her but she doesn't notice. She just stares.

She thinks of that day. The final moment, the way he had absorbed that blue light from the crystal without a moments hesitation. Then, he had turned. Turned to look at her, and the last thing he had seen as his soul left its body was Regina. His lifeless form had tumbled to the ground, leaving the essence of him behind. His soul. His soul that, even in death, had given her the smallest of smiles and reached out to her before disappearing. She had fallen to the ground at some point, the details of her actions a blur, she had held his body close as sobs racked her body.

Here he is. He's breathing, he's speaking, he's alive.

She thinks of her fate. She had accepted that doing good leads to suffering, and that she was doomed to live in that vicious circle. She thinks of how Robin was a part of that, how she was given an inexplicable moment of happiness just for it to ripped away. A cruel joke, just like hope always is.

But here he is.

Her eyes train in on his face, every detail of it. The details she knows so well, had learnt. The dimples hidden under stubble, the knit of his brow, the blue of his eyes. When she looks into those eyes, her own mind collides with every happy memory. Every moment of unbridled happiness he had given her.

The way he would pull her back for one more kiss. The way he would thread his fingers through her hair. The way he caressed her jaw.

She thinks of the way her face would split into a smile around him, often kissed straight off again. The way they would indulge in the littlest of touches, the linking of their fingers. The way they had danced, unable to keep from interrupting the routine with a searing kiss, giggling when it put them out of step with everyone else, but not caring one bit.

She knows Emma is calling for her, but she cannot bring herself to turn away. She had run away from him once, and this time she wasn't letting him go. She thinks of his words:

Stop thinking. We're here now, and this is true.

The thought of that, of the way he had kissed her and held her after he had said it, it's enough. Enough for one last leap of faith.

You learn to live without. But sometimes, even just for a moment, you don't have to.

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thank you for reading x


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